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| − | {{MaekadaBoxSlim
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| − | | header = #FFFFFF
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| − | | font = #000000
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| − | | bg1 = #003969
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| − | | bg2 = #006999
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| − | | bg3 = #0089B9
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| − | | cell1 = #069
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| − | | cell2 = #08B
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| − | | name = Krysta
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| − | | player = [[User:Krysta|@alincial00]]
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| − | | image =
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| − | | caption = "Whatever will be, will be!"
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| − | | realname = Christine Krueger
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| − | | alias = N/A
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| − | | gender = Female
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| − | | species = Human
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| − | | ethnicity = Caucasian
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| − | | birthplace = San Francisco
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| − | | operations = Comicbook Store
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| − | | relatives = Deceased
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| − | | age = 22
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| − | | height = 5'6
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| − | | weight = 140lbs
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| − | | eyes = Blue
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| − | | hair = Blonde
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| − | | complexion = Pale
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| − | | build = Lithe
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| − | | features = Multiple piercings
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| − | | fame = 3
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| − | | alignment = Lawful Good
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| − | | identity = N/A
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| − | | years_active = N/A
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| − | | citizenship = America
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| − | | occupation = Unemployed
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| − | | education = College
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| − | | marital = Complicated
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| − | | powers = <hr>
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| − | * Minor Telekinesis
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| − | * Raiki Healing
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| − | * Nasal Spoon Balancing
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| − | * Basic Mathematics
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| − | <hr>
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| − | | paraphernalia = <hr>
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| − | * Tommygun
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| − | * Ladyshooter
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| − | <hr>
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| − | | strength = 1
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| − | | weapon = 3
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| − | | durability = 2
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| − | | armor = 3
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| − | | speed = 3
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| − | | reflexes = 1
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| − | | resistance = 3
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| − | | stamina = 3
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| − | | dexterity = 4
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| − | | agility = 4
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| − | | combat = 1
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| − | | regen = 2
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| − | | energy = 1
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| − | | psionics = 7
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| − | | telepathy = 3
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| − | | willpower = 2
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| − | | sorcery = 2
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| − | | tech = 4
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| − | | intelligence = 3
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| − | | knowledge = 3
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| − | | charisma = 6
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| − | | bravery = 2
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| − | |}}
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| − | ===<div style="background: #0089B9; color: #000000; text-align: center; width:300px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto; border: 3px solid #003969; font-size: 100%;">'''San Francisco'''</div>===
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| − | <hr>
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| − | <div style="text-indent:40px;">A long time ago, a wise man spoke of the future. He told the gathered masses of the three events that would take place under the same sun, the same day, that would foretell the birth of a great evil. They spoke firstly of a day as black as night, great fire in the sky, the blood of many in the sand and finally shall come the sounds of the Devil himself.</div><br>
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| − | <div>Back in the summer of 1991, July the 11th, numerous events shook the world. First came the solar eclipse that bathed South America in choking darkness. Second, Nigerian Airways flight 2120 tragically caught fire and came down over the Saudi Arabia Desert, killing 261 passengers. Thirdly, and worst of all, The Wiggles released their first album.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Then Christine Kruegar was born. God help us all.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Krysta - as she was affectionatly dubbed by her mother - was born to an aging <del>goat</del> flowerchild on that same day. The girl was raised in a household void of a father, curiosity plagued her at an early age yet with time came apathy fore she had her mother and that was more than enough. The <del>hippy</del> kindly woman instilled a particular wisdom into her daughter, one that left the young woman with a kind nature, one of acceptance and optimism. Christine was raised in a house of acceptance and expression, of colours and music, on a steady diet of love, peace and flowerpower. (Read: tofu and rice cakes.) </div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Her years were uneventful, blissfully content to cruise through her childhood and teenage years in comfortable mediocrity with her mother for company. Krysta was the sterotypical young woman; blonde and airheaded, happy and without a care in the world. Perfectly average grades, a reasonable career in cheerleading, a bogstandard love life, statistically inevitable health problems.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Soon, much against her wishes, she was shipped off away from highschool to college up state at her mothers insistence. Her mothers teachings served her well during her college years where the social norm was to reject authority and question the establishment. Those few years saw countless hours of protest marches, ralleys, charity work and self discovery. What else was an art major supposed to do to pass the time?</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>After college, Krysta could only return to an empty house; the old wooden walls of colour and song, now dark and silent. What was once a welcoming home was now little more than a cold house, no better than a dusty box of memories.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>'''"Krysta, depression is just another form of narcissism. If you're ever sad, do something about it. I won't always be there to make you smile, you must find your own reasons."''' </div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>With her mothers final words in her mind and a smile on her face, she set off to find a fresh start.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | ===<div style="background: #0089B9; color: #000000; text-align: center; width:300px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto; border: 3px solid #003969; font-size: 100%;">'''Millenium City'''</div>===
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| − | <hr>
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| − | <div style="text-indent:40px;">From the moment her boot touched the bottom step, she knew exactly where she wanted to go. The city that she'd heard so much about, the epicentre for modern life, the place to be for excitment, where everyone is someone.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>'''"Vegas, baby!"'''</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>As the young woman settled into the seat of the cab, luggae in tow, she could do little but dream ahead. She saw the bright lights against the night sky like a sea of earthly stars, she saw the tumbling dice, the pyrotechnics and the beautiful people. She saw herself, on a stage, as a Vegas showgirl, living the high life of showbiz.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Unfortunatly, what she didn't see was that she booked the wrong flight and wound up in Millenium City.</div.><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Still, this didn't deter the happy-go-lucky blonde one bit. Instead of her sin city, she instead found one inhabited by gangsters, superheroes, mutants, freaks, cyborgs and so much more. It wasn't Vegas, but it was just as good, even if it didn't come with her dreams of being the showgirl she imagined. One of her earliest memories of Millenium City, still chasing the dream of showbiz, saw her working as a candy girl in a sleazy underground gambling ring. This certainly wasn't the highlife she'd envisioned, there was no star on her dressing room door, no adoring crowds, no bouquet of roses after each performance. Instead, she'd prowl up and down the isles serving drinks while being subjected to uncomfortable stares and the occasional unwanted grope.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>That was, until, a local Cape caught wind of the illegal ring and thought it the proper thing to do to fly in and kill everything that looked even slightly sinister. As they do. The bosses dead, the hideout exposed, the job gone and the costume now hers, Krysta was delighted. Oh, and she was now without a home. That's a problem.<div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>'''"Hey! That was my dressing room, I needed that! I lived there!"'''</div><br>
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| − | <div>'''"Oh, snap. Shit, my bad, darlin'. Tell you what, I need someone to watch my place while I'm on the job anyways. May as well be someone as smart, pretty and talented as you. The couch is yours forever and ever and ever, you can be my new bestie."'''</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>-and just like that, Krysta found a home. There's probably alot more to it than that, doubtful that's even what the Cape said, but Krysta never was good at telling stories. Either way, it was something, new home, a fresh start, a crappy basement under a comic book store with a woman who has apparantly never heard of hygiene. Maybe she was just European.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Krysta came to know the woman as Alin. A roughneck cowgirl type from the deep south, decades old with blue skin, horns and a really nice coat. Like, a seriously nice coat made of leather and everything. True to her word, she was away from the basement alot. Sometimes she'd be gone for a few days chasing down a criminal on bounty work, others she'd be gone for weeks on end across seas. Despite their differences, the two became quickly became close friends. For a woman who'd seen bloodshed and warfare all her life, she took a shine to Krystas flower-power charm. Perhaps she saw sense in their talks, or just naive hope in her words of peace.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>A short time after her 'redundancy' from the gambling ring, Krysta found work in the far less glamerous sector of accounting. She found a post at the UNTIL building, serving as a secretary for a short while before being moved on and trusted with further responsibility. Up and up she climbed her corporate ladder; admin assitant, personal assistant, human resources. From one desk to another, she quickly began to learn the ins and outs of the business to the point where when people reference doing something "by the book," she had the book comitted to memory. Literally.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Nothing lasts, however, as she was fired for a small clerical error a few years later. Did you ever hear of a small country in the middle east called Talcasistan? No? That's because Krysta accidentally had it reduced to ash and rubble. Whoops.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Never one to stay down, Krysta got right back on the horse and - smartly decided not to list the act of accidental genocide on her résumé - and found work as the PA to a shady club owner in downtown Millenium. Never one to fully understand the extent of Ms Garrena Birschoffs operation, Krysta fell in love with her new job. She delighted that Ms Birschoff had such horrendous bookkeeping skills, it gave the blonde a chance to stretch her mental muscles. Single handedly, she was able to sort out, budget and document every drink sold, lapdance given, assassin hired, every drug smuggling operation, money laundered and act of prostituion, all without ever fully realising that her reformed ex-KGB boss was the boss of a criminal empire. After all, those things are just the name of drinks, right? Right?</div>
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| − | <br><hr><br>
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| − | <div>For no real reason, Krysta was never one for making lasting relationships. Although the heartbreak she suffered in her past was nothing out of the ordinary, a few messy breakups and the sour end of a summer romance, she rarely felt the need to get too close to any one person. Despite having never had any explicit problem with intimacy, it was as if such things didn't properly exist to her, that she was "outside" it all. Always the first to be a friends confidant in sensitive issues and deep personal trouble, but never one to speak of her own matters; Krysta is a selfless social crutch. She knows and enjoys this.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>It was around her time under Ms Birschoffs employment that she met one of, if not the, most important person her in life; Bria Crawford. Immediatly Krysta could tell there was something different about Bria, something which was later clarified. From the get go, Krysta was afraid of the woman. Tall, dark, thuggish. Tough and intimidating. Krysta knew that if she were to put one foot out of place, this woman could crush her like a bug. Krysta also knew that that was something Bria wouldn't do.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Hard on the exterior, soft on the interior; Bria was a thug with a heart of gold. This is what drew Krysta to her in the first place. This is something Bria has proved to be true over and over again in their many conversations about love, life and everything. Krysta could only feel closer, safer with Bria with the passage of time. Again, her belief of safety was confirmed the night the blonde fell victim to a mugging but found herself miraculously saved by her friend.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Something Krysta doesn't fully understand is the relationship she shares with Bria. She knows exactly how she sees her friend, but what implication that has on the nature of their relationship or the perception Bria has of such things is a mystery to her. "Rod," is what she'd been dubbed. "Ride or Die." Ride it out or die trying. That, however, was something she understood. That was something she had no problem with doing. In truth, now she had a person so close to her heart, she couldn't imagine life without it, without her. The words her mother once said sounded clearer than ever.</div><br>
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| − | ==<div valign="bottom" style="background: #006999; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: center; margin:0 auto 0 auto; font-size:125%; height:25px; border: solid 5px #003969;">'''Tropes'''</div>==
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| − | '''[http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KindheartedSimpleton Kindhearted Simpleton]''' - Good will and acts of kindness come as second nature to Krysta, with near limitless ammounts of trust, faith and optimism in those around her. While she may have a few pearls of deep wisdom to offer, don't ask her to work the toaster or she may burn your house down.<br>
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| − | '''[http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PluckyComicRelief Plucky Comic Relief] / [http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheKlutz The Klutz]''' - It would seem that whenever Krysta is around, no situation can be taken seriously. Her spirit and cheer appear to be indominable, either a welcome gift to a group or an irritating distraction. Stupid questions and tumbles galore; a common catchphrase for the blonde woman is a high pitched squeak followed by a prat fall.<br>
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| − | '''[http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AllGirlsLikePonies All Girls Like Ponies]''' - Krysta really wants a pony.<br>
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| − | ==<div valign="bottom" style="background: #006999; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: center; margin:0 auto 0 auto; font-size:125%; height:25px; border: solid 5px #003969;">'''Friends'''</div>==
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| − | <div>"'''Alin''' was my first real friend when I came to Millenium City. She kinda sorta saved me from my crappy shop and let me sleep on her couch! She tries to be scary, but she's far too nice, we were once mugged while walking home, she beat the guy up then bought his gun for $50. When we got home, she broke it and threw it away. She has a long military career, maybe it taught her to pick her battles. I think she'd be such a great Super, but I know she wouldn't do it. She'd complain about the outfits and the image when I know she's too cynical. It's sad.<div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Something happened to her. Maybe it was one big thing, maybe it was lots of little things. I know she's a good person, but she's just so... down on herself, down on everything, like she gave up. Sometimes when I looked at her, she just looked so sad, even before what happened. When it got too much for her, she packed her bags and rejoined the army. I think she's in the middle east now. I hope she's alright."</div><br>
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| − | <hr><br>
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| − | <div>"Oh, Briaboo... '''Brianna Crawford''', she means everything to me. I don't like being alone, I don't like being by myself, but it's much easier when I know she's out there somewhere, that she'll come see me most nights. She's even saved my life more than once too! I don't know what I'd do without her.</div><br>
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| − |
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| − | <div>Bria reminds me of Alin, but maybe not as far gone. Bria acts like a real tough thug, but I know inside she's squishy. Squishysquishysquishy. She's... my best friend, what more can I really say? It's simpler that way. Right?"</div><br>
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| − | <hr><br>
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| − | <div>"I met '''Chupe''' through Bria! I think he likes her, but shhh, that's a secret!"</div>
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| − | [[File:Alin(CO) Sprite.png]][[File:Bria Sprite.png]][[File:Stitch Sprite.png]]
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| − |
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| − | ==<div valign="bottom" style="background: #006999; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: center; margin:0 auto 0 auto; font-size:125%; height:25px; border: solid 5px #003969;">'''Telekinesis'''</div>==
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| − | <div>It's no secret that Krysta is in possession of some form of telekinetic ability. She herself would be the first so shrug and admit that there's no story behind it, not to her knowledge anyway. The young woman is able to manifest a number of etheral hands at will, out of utter nothingness. This ability doesn't seem to have any draining effect on her, nor does it seem to effect her in anyway despite having total control of these aparations. Appearing in a misty purple form, the hands are infact solid and warm to the touch. Using these ghostly limbs, she's able to lift, push, pull and manipulate things in her environment. From her understanding, this ability is classed somewhere alongside telekinesis. When asked about the nature and origin of these hands, the story she tells is always different.</div>
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| − | <br>
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| − | ==<div valign="bottom" style="background: #006999; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: center; margin:0 auto 0 auto; font-size:125%; height:25px; border: solid 5px #003969;">'''Trivia'''</div>==
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| − | <div>
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| − | *Krysta comes from a German heritage. Her great-grandparents fought in World War 2. (Not on the side you'd hope.)
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| − | *Despite the name, Princess Fluffybutt is actually a male.
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| − | *Krysta has been banned from attending any Chippendales show due to excessive giggling.
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| − | *Krysta is tremendously fond of Halloween yet her choice of costume is often ill advised. This has resulted from her being expelled from every Halloween party she's ever been to.
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| − | *Krysta is an avid fan of videogames. A subscriber of a popular MMO, she's played an elven hunter for over two years and is still perfectly happy to run around the starter area, hunt bunnies and explore the woods.
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| − | *Krysta once failed a survey.
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| − | *Krysta is often confused by hats.
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| − | *Everytime someone in the media says the words "Buttcheeks," Krystas family is paid $0.25 in royalties.
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| − | *Krysta once got into a fight with a stop sign. She lost.
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| − | *A happy accident on vacation once saw Krysta landed with her own chat show on Swedish Television. The show lasted only four episodes and was described as "Infuriating." She now appears on the 10SEK stamp.
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| − | *After a seven hour long conversation, Krysta was once punched in the head by a Buddhist pacifist.
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| − | *Following a freak accident at an experimental psycho-analytic laboratory, Krysta has been left with the amazing ability of being able to read her own thoughts.
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| − | *Krysta believes that clouds are stalking her.
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| − | *Krysta has been banned from ever returning to China. As a result, many now know her as Bén-Huáng-Nǚhái.
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| − | *Krysta has a crippling fear of sheep.
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| − | *Krysta has no inner-monologue, conscience or voice in her head; just Shake Your Coconuts by Junior Senior on repeat.
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| − | *Krysta avidly believes Samuel L. Jackson is her spirit animal.
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| − | </div>
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| − | <hr>
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| − | <br>
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| − | ==<div valign="bottom" style="background: #006999; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: center; margin:0 auto 0 auto; font-size:125%; height:25px; border: solid 5px #003969;">'''Track List'''</div>==
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| − | <div>
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| − | *'''01 - AWOLNATION - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_H77Ledl_I Kill Your Heroes]'''
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| − | *'''02 - Junior Senior - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UCr5tPh_mc Shake Your Coconuts]'''
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| − | *'''03 - Alanis Morissette - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQ8D5Ihe4hg One Hand In My Pocket]'''
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| − | *'''04 - Goldfinger - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p-qfzH0vnOs 99 Red Balloons]'''
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| − | *'''05 - Jimmy Eat World - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKsxPW6i3pM The Middle]'''
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| − | *'''06 - Weezer - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQHPYelqr0E Pork and Beans]'''
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| − | *'''07 - Rammstein - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJ3kVtd2CCA Mein Teil]'''
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| − | *'''08 - The Baseballs - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sestSq6hRHI Umbrella]'''
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| − | *'''09 - Foo Fighters - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBG7P-K-r1Y Everlong]'''
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| − | *'''10 - Against Me! - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7_M1fxWit8 Because of the Shame]'''
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| − | *'''11 - The Ataris - [http://vimeo.com/27669666 Boys of Summer]'''
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| − | *'''12 - Nightwish - [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hTdhXxxWREo Bye Bye Beautiful]'''
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| − | </div>
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| − | <hr>
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| − | <br>
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| − | ==<div valign="bottom" style="background: #006999; color: #FFFFFF; text-align: center; margin:0 auto 0 auto; font-size:125%; height:25px; border: solid 5px #003969;">'''Short #1 - "Dear Destiny..."'''</div>==
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| − | <div>
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| − | 6PM and the Sun was sneaking away below the horizon of Millenium City, leaving the long street not with it's warm touch, but instead the cold street lights. To and fro a busy throng of people wandered alongside a conga line of cars; the last dregs of the evening commute. Most folks were going home, returning to their families after a days hard work. At least one of the people on the street was just leaving, in fact.
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| − | A young blonde woman weaved her way against the tide of the crowd, offering polite excuses and apologies whenever she almost bumped into someone or was forced to awkwardly side step. At a lazy, thoughtful pace she wandered, shielded against the creeping cold thanks to her favourite leather jacket and a wooly red scarf. Unlike the commuters making their way out of the city centre, Krysta was heading towards it, towards the cities dominant RenCen. She had no business being in the Heroes square at all, never did and it was still too early to head for a drink at Club Caprice, no, she was heading there for other reasons.
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| − | Krysta broke from the chaos of the street out into the much calmer park sitting on Westsides skyline. The route would take another ten-fifteen minutes to reach her destination but she could never resist a chance to stroll across the grass, especially with the beautiful sunset overhead. With the grass stroking the sides of her canvas shoe, she felt the familiar pang of damp soaking into her socks. A quick check of her jeans pocket told her the letter was still there.
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| − | A leisurely stroll through the shadowed park later, the blonde cornered through the RenCen, doubled backover towards the observation tower and was soon gliding upwards; riding an elevator to the top of the tallest builing in the entire city; the highest point for miles around. Thoughts danced around her airy mind as she rose up and up and up. She thought of her friends, of Chupe and Punky, of her recent time spend with Bria, oh lovely Bria...
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| − | As the glass-encased lift broke the level of the rooftops, the fading Sun struck out again, desperate to remain for a fleeting last minute; the last light of the day washed over her pale face and calm smile.
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| − | It made sense to her that this was the place to be, without a doubt. Most might think Christines thoughts silly and frivolous much like everything else about her, but she'd never care. This was a good idea.
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| − | Destiny was watching, even now. From above. Krysta was sure of it and was determined to contact the girl however she could. With no email or phone number, she was left wit no idea how speak to Desinty - no idea where she was or where she could be. Chicago? But where? This would work instead.
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| − |
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| − | ''Dear Destiny,''
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| − |
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| − | ''Hi there! You don't know me, not really, but my name is Christine. You can call me Krysta! It's so nice to finally say hello to you. I hope this letter finds you well.''
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| − |
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| − | ''Bria told me all about you! Or, well, she mentioned you a few times but I think I understand enough. She told me how special you were to her and how close the two of you were, she told me about the Southside Broads and the bad people you both put with, people like Tammy and her step-dad. Chicago sounds really rough, you're both so strong for living there! I can't imagine how hard it must of been for you both. But you had each other, right?''
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| − |
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| − | ''That's what makes it so sad. I understand it's a natural part of life and we shouldn't be upset, but sometimes it can't be helped. I think it's always two stories at once, on one hand you're gone now, you won't get to be married and maybe have kids and grow old and have lots of happy memories. On the other hand, Bria won't get to come to your wedding, she won't get to look after your kids and she won't get to grow old with you. I don't know which is more heartbreaking.''
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| − |
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| − | ''Then there's the chance that maybe - just maybe - I'll be the one instead. That makes me happy, I'm gratful to have that wonderful chance, but I don't want to replace you. I'll never replace you because I know how much you mean to her. Sometimes when we're alone together and she's talking about Chicago and the Southside Broads, I can see it in her eyes, I can see just how much she misses you.''
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| − |
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| − | ''It's only for now anyway, you'll be together again one day and maybe I'll get to meet you too!''
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| − |
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| − | ''What I'm trying to say is you don't have to worry, I'll look after her for you - I promise!''
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| − |
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| − | ''Love,''
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| − | ''Krysta''
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| − | ''PS. If you get lonely, there's a very special lady up there with you, she'll keep you company. Just tell her I sent you.''
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| − | A neat fold here and a neat fold there saw the letter take the shape of an elaborate paper aeroplane. Krysta stood calmly on the very edge of the collosal tower, the city so far below she could see the edge of the suburbs and far beyond. The wind whipped and pulled at her hair and scarf, threatning to drag her from her perch if she was not careful. With only the gentlest of flicks, the letter-aeroplane took off from her fingers.
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| − | Away and away it spiralled, carried high on the winds, spun on the relentless updrafts and thrown by the endless crosswinds.
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| − | There, on the very edge of the world, Krysta sat alone as she watched the letter until she could see it no more; confident that somehow it would find its way to Destiny.
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| − | </div>
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| − | <hr>
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| − | <br>
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| − | [[Category:Character]]
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| − | [[Category:Hero]]
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